


The Mortal and the Monster.

by AuthorInDistress



Series: I promise myself to my God [2]
Category: Norse Mythology, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bonding, M/M, Mentions of past child abuse, Torture, and continued abuse, bit OOC I suppose, but no actual rape, little bits of angst, mating rituals and coming of age ceremonies, mentions and threats of non-con, religion and myth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:29:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorInDistress/pseuds/AuthorInDistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony comes of age. He's grown and still, it's not the right time to bind. Viewed as a curse on the village and hated by many, he finds peace in the swamp. </p><p>With his God.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mortal and the Monster.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, you should really listen to this at some point XD:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jiwuQ6UHMQg
> 
> And be aware of the tags :)

.

The drums incessantly beat in the distance while Tony makes his careful way around the church set into the ground, heading back toward the swamp. In his hands is a basket full of bread, cheese, tomatoes, meat and a small bottle of wine hidden under a strip of cloth that he’d ripped from one of Obadiah’s old clothes. The village is half empty now, the day of initiation and growth for anyone that comes of age being today, so many of the people are out hunting and/or preparing themselves for the ceremony this evening.

 _Tony_ comes of age today.

He should really be out there helping with preparations for his own ceremony and readying himself, but instead, he’s found himself - once again - promising to Loki the previous evening, that he would come to see him before noon today.

So now, he’s risking so much, too much, to go and see him.

 

Years after he had first met the man, he has striven to keep all of his promises so far and has been constantly returning to his God; bringing clean water, bandages and healing stones for the bruises and burns, food and drink and conversation each time that he comes, until Loki had gradually begun to request things himself for the next visits.

Tony’s sleeves are bare today, for cautiousness only and to make certain that anything he wears is not ruined by the mud of the swamp, and he prays that he’ll not see his Majester before he sees Loki. He’ll not be allowed to walk anywhere himself if he is caught by her today.

Especially not today.

He turns, holding the basket tighter as he steps around the flattened fences and ropes that are hung around their village to keep the animals out of their homes, and when he finally reaches the entrance to the swamp he feels every bone grow rigid in pure shock.

A boat gently dips in the water - just where he usually slides into the water himself - tied down and kept still for someone else’s use. Waiting. His shock vanishes as quickly as it had arrived and, angrily now, Tony places his basket down and bends to grab at it’s rope, pulling it off hard and throwing it out of the way. He’s close to shoving the boat further out into the water, where it will either rot and sink or become lost in the swamp, but -

"That’ll be my boat, Anthony." He shuts his eyes with a sigh. Of course it is.

Straightening, he turns to face Aldrich with a scowl, “Venturing into the swamp is forbidden, Killian. There’s a snake out there, remember, and for the safety of the village, we’re all to - “

Aldrich scoffs at him and lunges for the rope quickly, to keep the boat from floating any further down, “Oh, don’t recite rules to me when it’s you who refuses to follow them yourself.” Tony scowl becomes a glare. “Is today not your initiation day, anyway?” He looks him over and Tony folds his arms across his chest and lifts his chin - still glaring. “Should you not be with your Majester? _Preparing_.” He’s mocking him. Tony, as he usually feels like doing whenever seeing his face, suddenly just wants to wring his bulging and thick throat.

Such thoughts should not even be there but he can’t help it. His temper has always been a source for people to punish him, he can’t keep his mouth shut.

"What I do, and how I do it, is and never has been, your business Killian. Now get out of here, _before_ I scream loud enough that the only crime they’ll think you guilty of will be so far from entering the swamp that they’ll never believe it of you, if that’s what you’ll say to them in defense.”

After promising Loki before to ensure that no one else ventured near to him, Tony had spun a lie that there was a great snake out in the swamp that could rouse itself if anyone disturbed it and would come after the village for a meal. Superstitious and frightened of everything, as always, the village had believed him and when Tony had described to them the body of the dead snake that he had seen before, they’d then created a rule in fear - that the swamp is forbidden and out of bounds to any in the village.

It had made it harder for Tony to consistently visit his God but it had also allowed him to keep his promise to him.

Aldrich gives him a vague look of irritation before shaking his head, as mocking as he had been before. Tony’s hands curl into fists at his sides. He will not start a fight. He will not put himself in that position, today of all days.

"I have permission from my Majester, _Anthony_. I requested if I could hunt the great snake, to see it dead once and for all, and let our village have some glory, and he gave it me.” He then sneers at Tony, “So please. Kindly get out of the way and run along to do whatever errand you were rushing to do.”

Oh, he hates him.

"You mean to let _you_ have some glory.” Tony corrects, rolling his eyes and placing a foot on the edge of the boat; pushing it hard until it moves onward. Aldrich stumbles forward, almost falling into the water with it and when he looks up at Tony’s smirk he raises a fist to strike him but -

” _Anthony_!” They both blink, turning. Tony’s Majester was crossing over the rope toward them, her face furious and dark, just as her eyes focus on Tony, “You, boy, have been absent from all the proceedings today and when I _finally_ find you, I find you at the swamp!”

Tony sighs, looking down. At this rate, he’ll be late and Loki -

"He was trying to enter the swamp on this boat, Majester. I came to stop him." Tony snaps his head up to stare at Aldrich, his lips parting to defend himself but he’s grabbed by the bicep before he can and shoved in the direction of his home.

"Thank you, Killian." She smiles at him, moving Tony to the side by a grip on his hair, "It is in you, that many of the boys should be looking." Aldrich smiles at her, bowing his head and turning to walk away. Tony glares hatefully at him over his shoulder as he’s pushed and dragged along by his Majester’s claw-like nails until he finally reaches his home. "Now _get_ in there, you. And prepare yourself!” He hits the wall when she pushes him, and for a second his sight blurs but she covers his entire vision with her face again before he can even recover anyway, opening the door for him to enter, “You’ll not receive any help from me, now. Not after I spent most of this dreaded morning looking for your miserable self!”

He staggers inside when she shoves at him for the fifth time and the door is slammed shut in his face just as he opens his mouth to apologize for his tardiness. Obadiah must not be home yet, from hunting, as the house is as empty as it had been when Tony had woken up at dawn. He rubs at his new bruises, leaning against the wall to catch his breath and to quell any tears that rise from his anger at both his Majester and Aldrich.

Liars and abusers. He hates them both and he hates that he must always see them, day-to-day.

Looking through the window, he bites his lip and watches as the old hag hobbles away toward the campfire, before quickly sliding under the catch when she finally leaves his sight. This time he checks to see that Aldrich has gone before sliding into the water. His basket is in the same place and he holds it balanced over his head as he strides and wades through the thick, mess of marsh around him.

Loki is lying against his same black rock when Tony finally reaches him and he only looks up when the basket is placed beside his head, “You’re late.” He accuses, his voice as low and deep as always.

Tony nods at him, lowering his eyes and slowly pulling the cloth from the food, “I know. I’m sorry. It’s - today simply made it harder for me to leave, is all, and someone placed themselves in my way which didn’t exactly help me in trying to.”

Loki tilts his head to the side to show his understanding but he doesn’t look any less angry afterward and he only opens his mouth for the cheese presented to him next, making certain that his teeth scrape over the tips of Tony’s fingers as he pulls the piece into his mouth with his tongue, “Hm.”

Tony almost meets his height now, grown as he is, but Loki still towers over him when they lean like this. When he had first gone home that one fateful day - those long years ago - he’d immediately assumed that Loki and their meeting had all been nothing but a dream and that his imagination had let legends and myths merge together to confuse and frighten him. But finding the God again, the next day, had dismissed any doubts and he had found himself returning almost everyday.

Until Obadiah had seen the mud in the house that he had so desperately tried to hide and had beaten him. It was days like that, days where he’d angered his guardian, that he wishes for his parents to be alive and back. His mother, at least, had never raised a hand to him - that much he remembers of her.

Loki eats himself now, pulling at the chains and reaching into the basket for whatever he can find to satisfy his hunger and Tony busies himself in tending to the cuts that litter the man’s chest instead. The curse, Loki had explained to him once, does not simply end with the death of his main punisher - the Snake - but continues for however long it will take for him to find a soul to break it for him.

Tony’s soul.

Lashes from invisible whips and burns from fires no one but Loki can see, hurt him every day and night and there is always some new wound for Tony to tend to in his visits. His lowers his eyes, dabbing at a burn and only stopping when Loki hisses and shifts to move away.

His hand is then caught and pressed down on the skin above the mark, making him look up in surprise. “You’ve come of age, today.” So he has heard the drums then, all the way out here. Or - he’s remembered, when Tony had told him before, in panic and fear of the approaching day.

"Yes." He says, or rather, whispers. Something like this always happens when he’s so close to Loki. As though the power of his God is enough to take his voice away from him in no more than a few words. "My ceremony begins in the evening but … I’m to begin preparation now."

"And yet you are, here. With me."

"Yes." Tony wipes at a droplet of blood in the corner of Loki’s mouth, "I am."

There’s a brief moment of silence where the both of them continue with what they were doing. Fussing or eating.

"You’ve your initiation then." Tony nods, cold fingers of fear wrapping around his throat and he tries to hide how fast his heart begins to beat at the prospect of what’s to happen this evening, "And then you are to bond with another."

Tony swallows and nods, again, gently pulling his other hand out of Loki’s grip and turning to a still-bleeding cut down the side of his right shoulder. Loki huffs slightly, one of his typical smirks slowly sliding onto his face.

"Well then." He chuckles slightly, moving back to let Tony press at the wound to stop it’s flow, "All grown up, now, hm?"

"Please don’t." Toy whispers to him, looking down and away, pretending to dip the cloth in his hands into the cleanest part of the water to rid it of blood and muck, "I - don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified."

Loki’s grin widens, just enough that Tony has to close his eyes at the sight of it. Still, after all this time, the man scares him. “Of what? Your ceremony or your mating night?”

Tony looks up at him, pressing his lips together, “I was born during one of the worst famines of our time. No other child is the same age as me, no woman nor man. The only initiation occurring today … is mine.”

Loki looks at him, his lashes flickering in the breeze that begins to pick up around them both, “You, alone.” Tony’s breathing has quickened. He doesn’t know when but is has, and his chest heaves now. “Odd.”

"The elders say that no child should be barred a ceremony. No matter if they come alone or not."

"The ceremony is unimportant." Loki snaps, making Tony recoil, as he always does from another’s anger. "I am speaking of the bonding." Tony looks at him, watching as he slowly calms, "Bread." He then commands and Tony slides through the water to reach into the basket for the loaf, breaking it and placing a piece by Loki’s lips. Loki eats in silence, watching as Tony chooses to fiddle and play with the beads on his clothes.

When the food is eaten and the wine drunk, Loki reaches out and pulls Tony closer, lifting him by the waist to seat him on the rock, turning as much as he can to face him with his chains restricting him as they do.

"Have you a woman in mind, yet?" Tony curls his knees in, resting his chin on them and shrugging. "A man?"

"I’ve promised myself to a God." He says softly, and Loki laughs at him. He should hate it when he does that, should hate being mocked by him as much as he does by Aldrich but with Loki … he can’t seem to stop wanting more of everything he sees and hears.

"Marriage is a bind of souls, my dear." He reminds him, still laughing, "This is merely a mating ceremony. A bind of bodies and lust."

Tony wraps his arms around his knees and lowers his head onto them. There’s a splash of water and Loki’s arm lifts his chin up in as tight a grip as he’ll get, “Your God is talking to you. You would look away when he is?”

"No." Tony tries to say but his breath catches before he can and Loki’s expression changes.

"What frightens you, so much?" The grip on his chin slides upward until it reaches his hair, petting and stroking, and Tony leans into the touch gratefully. Loki had last done this with him when he had turned 11, when he had run from his Majester’s hate and into the swamp, where Loki had pulled him close and held him until he slept. The man’s nakedness should have been off-putting then, threatening even, but Loki had not hurt him nor abused him in any way. For all their warnings and rules of strangers and the danger they may have, it was those at home that always seemed to have more danger than anything that Tony has met out here.

"There are no women my age, or even a few years older, in my village. Most are either children or elders." He bites his lip, adding, "Or already bonded and married."

"And the men?" Tony hugs himself tighter and the hand on his hair ceases it’s stroking, "There are men un-bonded then." 

"Seven that are older than me." Tony murmurs, his stomach clenching in a sick sort of fear that he tries to repel by focusing on Loki’s presence before him but his fear of this evening seems to block all that he tries to think of. "Three are aggressors."

"And you alone are initiating today. You will not have a group to join you."

Tony shakes his head, knowing that Loki now understands why he is so afraid of what’s going to happen. A mating ceremony would usually have at least six or seven children now thrust into adulthood when they have come into age. They are to choose, that one night, another in the village who can bond with them through shared lust and passion under the stars. If they cannot find another, they wait for the next year and try again.

As there is usually a group, the lust is shared and a non-bonded will probably only be taken by at least two villagers during the night. Whether or not their body chooses one or not, is up to them, but there is no fear of un-bonded villagers wanting and waiting for their turn, as there would be plenty of others to use if another is already chosen.

Tony is alone.

He will be in the middle of the mating circle and these seven men, who he knows have yet to bond for two years now, will have no one else to share their lust with. They will be frustrated also. Taunted, no doubt, by their Majesters for not having found a bonded for so long. And it will be only him and them. No one is allowed to interfere, even if another looks in danger, and by the end of it Tony fears more for his body than his bond.

He feels a little sick.

"Do you know these men?" Loki’s being kind today, Tony realises, soft even. It’s nice. Compared to how his Majester has just now treated him, he needs just a little kindness right now. Tony shakes his head in answer, opening his eyes to find Loki looking at him strangely. "What of your friend? The one that calls for you when your attention should really be on me."

Tony blinks, “Rhodey? No, he’s - no.” Rhodey bonded once but the woman chose another to marry. By law, he’s not required to be in a mating ceremony again. “No.”

Loki seems to understand because he then leans closer, until his breath touches Tony’s cheek, “Then you will take this with you.” He touches a hand to Tony’s lips, pressing his own there for a bit first and a trickle of something warm, like lightning even, shoots down Tony’s spine when he pulls away. It isn’t the first time Loki has kissed him, this being the third, but never has it felt like that before. “Protection. Any who hurt you, tonight only, too deeply to be more than a punch or slap, will experience pain that is thrice the amount they gave to you.” Tony looks at him, and his surprise and gratitude must show on his face because Loki tuts and gives him a look, “I can hardly bind our souls together if you are left lying bleeding and broken amidst the un-bonded of your village, can I.”

Leaning forward, Tony runs his fingers down the side of Loki’s face, avoiding the scars around his eyes and his lips, “Thank you.” A grunt is his only answer, but this is good. This is far better than how Loki used to react with him. To Tony, when he had been only a child, Loki had been threatening, frightening even, and had taken every opportunity to present a side to him that seemed evil and dark. But then. As he had grown, Loki’s conversation had changed from spun out lies and horror-filled tales, to one-worded and curt answers to any questions Tony had for him. This conversation now is more than anything Loki has given to Tony in months and if he did not have to go so soon, he would have wanted to stay longer.

As it is, he knows that he needs to go. The sun is highest in the sky now already and he has yet to even _begin_ preparing himself for tonight.

~

For all the clothes that he has Tony cannot even find something that he thinks may be appropriate to wear for his ceremony. Usually, he does not think it would matter, but as all eyes would be on him - and only him now - he finds himself uncontrollably nervous about it all. He’s already bathed, had found the lake empty for once but, unfortunately for him, as soon as he had stepped out of the water Aldrich had returned to the village with an animal over his shoulder.

The resulting conversation had been awful and Aldrich’s straying hands had led to the worst one of them being crushed under the largest stick that Tony could find lying nearby. As one of the un-bonded in the village, Tony dreads tonight so much more now and had practically fled to his house before Aldrich could stop screaming at the pain in his hand.

He’ll be picked by him first, he knows. There is no one in the village who does not adore Aldrich and if he confesses his fears of being taken by the man to his Majester, he knows he’ll only be scoffed at and told to go and pray some more.

Tapping his fingers against the wood of his clothing chest, he scoops out all of his clothes and searches through them all for something, anything, that is not so caked in mud as they all are right now. He should be having help with this, from either his guardian or from his Majester, but neither will do anything to assist him anymore and Tony has learnt many of their villages rites and teachings himself for years now.

A knock at his door startles him enough into shutting the chest’s lid onto his little finger and he sucks at it with a grimace, looking up just as Roberta Rhodes walks inside his room. “Hello, Tony.”

She smiles at him and he stands quickly, holding the blanket wrapped around his naked self tighter, smiling back at her, “Hello. Um. Sorry, Rhodey isn’t here, he said he’ll - “

"Oh no. No, I’m here for you, Tony. Don’t worry." Stepping forward she shuts the door after her. "You must be nervous, yes?" Feeling a little uncomfortable at being so bare before her, he nods and tugs at the blanket until it’s higher around him. "I know that James was too."

He was? James had been a part of a group of sixteen, Tony remembers. It had been easy for him, but then, he supposes everyone must get nervous about growing up. “Yes, well. I cannot even find something to wear.” He scoffs at himself, looking down at the clothes around his feet, before looking back at her curiously, “What did Rhodey wear?”

"James?" She hums, kneeling down and looking through Tony’s clothes before he can protest about the mud to warn her, "That hardly matters. That was his ceremony, not yours." He kneels beside her. "The clothes you are to wear to your initiation must be something that has a great meaning to you, Tony. Only you. It is different for every child coming of age." He suddenly finds one of his hands clasped in hers, though she’s still scanning her eyes over the clothes, and she squeezes when he tries to pull away. "At the mating night." Her voice sounds strange now and she keeps a hold of his hand, "You wear nothing at all, so - you need not worry over that so much."

"Okay." Tony murmurs, chewing on the inside of his cheeks as he watches her. She’s helping him. But why? "Did … Rhodey ask you to come out here?"

Roberta looks at him now, and to his horror Tony sees that there is the slight start to tears in her eyes just as she cups his cheek, “No. I came here because I know that you’d need help from someone. Obadiah should be here but I saw him leave and your Majester was at the meetings.” He holds her gaze, ” It is a Mother’s duty to be here anyway, for her child, before they are bonded.” Tony has to blink, just to excuse himself into looking down.

"You don’t have to do that for me. I’m not your son."

"Well." Her hand slides from his face and, though a tear actually falls now, she smiles at him again, "I have spent enough time worrying after _both_ you and James since your own mother died, so if you are not my son in thought … then whose are you?”

Tony swallows but he can’t. There’s a tightness in his throat that stops him and suddenly everything he’s been feeling all day, the tension and the fear and the loss of something being here for him comes bundling out together and he sobs, once, bending to put his face in his hands but Roberta pulls him into her arms before he can. It’s more kindness that he’s ever been touched with and he leans into it.

"It’s alright, child. I know. It’s alright." She does knows, Tony realises, she really does. She’s assumed what he has himself about what it to happen tonight. Because, whether or not Loki’s spell keeps the men from killing or breaking him, it’ll not be his body that will be destroyed when they are done. And, having been named a curse on this village more times than anything - born into the famine as he was - he knows that no one will even dare to bend a rule and to stop them before they go too far. Three are aggressors, brutes, abusers, and they’ll not stop even if he _screams_ -

He curls a hand in Roberta’s dress, burying his face there and for once, knowing just what it feels like to have a mother hug him.

"There’s - " He starts, wiping at his eyes, "In a drawer beneath the prayer room, there is a set of clothes I’ve never touched before. One of them is the set my father wore the day I was born." Roberta looks at him, lowering her eyes and leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead. He doesn’t want her to go.

"I’ll get them for you. You stay and calm yourself. When you are dressed I’ll go through the rites with you until you are well prepared." Tony snaps his head up to look at her, his heart swelling so much that it hurts to feel it beat in his chest.

"I - " His voice sounds wet, clogged, " _Thank you_.”

-

She helps him with the clasps, with the buttons and the belts and the oils that are to be dabbed over the backs of his ears and neck. She helps him memorize and re-memorize rites and vows and prayers and when the time comes she holds his hand and leads him to the door. Rhodey’s waiting outside and he smiles at Tony when he sees him, handing him one of the red-tinged flowers from the field by their hunting ground.

"What is it?" Tony asks, skimming a finger down it’s petals and letting Rhodey take his hand when Roberta lets go to leave for the ceremony. Tony must enter either alone, or with another close to his age.

"The red coral only blooms once every three years." Rhodey informs him, squeezing his hand between Tony’s, "This one bloomed today. I - thought it may be a sign so I picked it for you. For luck." Tony looks down at it again, flicking his gaze over it and feeling the corners of his lips twitch up, "Wear it."

"Where?" He asks, laughing a little. It sounds strange to him, to be laughing today, "I cannot add anything to my clothes, Roberta told me to leave it all bare."

"Your hair?"

"Am I a woman, Rhodey?"

"What of your necklace?" Tony pauses, touching two fingers to the string of rocks around his neck. His necklace: a gift, from Loki. The God had been bored one day, and had taken rocks from around him, had smoothed and cut them using whatever he could find before fashioning it into a collar of sorts. When Tony had come for his visit, it had been placed around him when his back had been turned and he hadn’t questioned it then, but had at home, when he had fingered the rocks and pebbles that make it up before falling asleep and dreaming of his God. "Your necklace could hold it in the hole of the last rock, couldn’t it? The coral is only small. It should be alright."

Taking his advice, Tony slips his hand out of Rhodey’s and uses it to hold his necklace still as he walks before pushing the flower through the gap in one of the rocks. It fits and stays, swinging with every step he takes.

"You’ll be alright, Tony." Rhodey tells him and the sound of drums begins to get louder as they pass the last of the houses in their village, nearing the forest and it’s campfire now, "Your God watches over you." As a child, Tony had hinted that he had met God and that he watched over him constantly. He had kept his promise to Loki and had never told another of him but he had not lied either. Rhodey had clung to that one statement of Tony’s and had teased him with it for years to come. But now, the reminder of it, simply makes Tony want to run away and just be a child again; to not have this happening to him.

The villagers are all seated around the fire when they arrive and Rhodey takes his seat when they all turn to face him. His Majester is sitting with a scowl on her face, giving him a dark look that tells him that he is late and that he is useless and stupid and not worth her time or patience. He ignores it best he can and begins the slow walk through the middle until he can sit himself before the Elder: May.

Opposite him is Aldrich, with his hand bandaged and his sneer fixed on his face. When he meets his gaze he purposefully slides a hand down to palm himself through his trousers. Tony looks away and pretends he doesn’t hear the laughter of those around Aldrich that had seen.

"Anthony. Last of the Stark family." Tony keeps his back straight, his chin up, and listens as May begins her speech, "You come to us today, a grown man. Your childhood is over now, boy, and your days toward being an elder begin."

The drums beat only soft now and Tony does his best to listen, to respond where he should - exactly as he had practiced with Roberta. He says everything correctly, “I understand.” “I will.” “I follow - I pray - I vow.”

May stands and he copies her, she takes from the fire a rock and he does so as well. She burns the pattern she has already etched into it into his wrist and he holds his breath against the pain and does so himself on his other wrist once she decrees that he should.

"Today, you learn of your purpose in life, Anthony Stark and today, your sins are forgiven." And now, he’s to announce anything that must be a sin, everything that must be told, must be revealed. And as much as it pains him to do so, he keeps his mouth shut and only tells of minor sins, ones that he knows many in the village know of anyhow. Anything to do with Loki, he keeps to himself - anything to do with his God is his business only.

May then slides her hands into his hair and pushes him down just as the drums beat faster. Tony’s first impulse is to shake her off but if he struggles now, the fire lapping at his face with do more damage to him than her, so he keeps still.

"Now," She whispers in his ear, holding him over the fire until he can feel his face flush from the warmth, "Look into the fire and _see_. Know what your _purpose_ is.”

Tony’s breath hitches and he automatically shuts his eyes against the burn of the fire but she shakes him hard when he does - “ _No_! You need to _see_!” - using the grip on his hair and rattling his teeth from the force of it. He hears laughter, knows that it’s taboo to allow that, and yet no one stops them from jeering at his mistake.

Looking into the fire, the beats from the drums echo everywhere around him and he shakes as flames lap at him, when sparks fly into his face. At first, he sees nothing, and that terrifies him, for if you see nothing, you are nothing and he cannot live with that fact. He will not live with it.

“ _Look_.”

Searching through the fire, harps now playing in the background along with the drums, flutes and strings and Tony’s mind whirls until finally, eventually, he sees an image arise out of the flames. Loki’s face is as scared and fierce as always and it builds in the fire until his figure appears out of it as well, rising up to completely engulf Tony’s face and neck. These images are private, known only to those who see it as their purpose in life, and yet Tony still panics and prays that no one sees his God and knows that his greatest sin, his biggest sin, is promising to release the God of Mischief from his curse.

May releases him when the fire dies down and the drums slow along with it. Tony stumbles backward, his head aching from the smoke and from her too tight a grip in his hair, and the cool of the wind over his face almost makes him swoon with dizziness.

Images of Loki fly through his mind, images of who he is and what he has done, though Tony knows enough anyhow. He’s asked his Majester time and time again, ever since Loki had first told him his true title, and he knows the history, knows the murders the man committed. Knows that the snake had burnt him with acid for his punishment, for years, before it had died eventually and Loki had been hurt by things unseen to any but him since. He knows. He knows so much. But he can still see it flying through his mind.

When he comes to his senses, eventually, Rhodey is sitting beside him and May is with his Majester - discussing him no doubt. He wants to eavesdrop but when he realizes that the sun has set, he almost lets out a cry of panic before catching himself just in time.

"Tony?" Rhodey takes him by the hand, helps him stand and wipes a hand over the sweet pooling over his forehead and cheeks, "Come on. You’re to ready yourself for the mating ceremony. The moon’s not yet in the sky, so you’ve time still." Time. He doesn’t want time, he wants this to be over. "I’m - uh. I’ll pray for you."

Tony doesn’t answer and the rest of the walk back to his house is in silence. Rhodey leaves him at the door and he sinks down to his knees when inside. Images of Loki still burn in his mind, behind his lids even when he shuts his eyes, and he suddenly wants to see him - so _badly_ \- but he knows he can’t.

Removing his clothing is harder than it usually is and he folds and places them on his bed. He’ll not be returning here tonight. He doesn’t need it for sleeping right now. His hands are shaking and he wants Roberta, or Rhodey. He wants his Mother. He wants _Loki_.

Sliding a finger inside him is harder than he’d assumed it would be and the oils Roberta had left only help a little. His finger aches by the time he finds himself able to slip another inside and everything hurts there, this isn’t pleasurable at all, and if it hurts now when it’s only himself doing this then what will -

He pushes and presses, opening himself up as much as he can, his fear of being torn apart filling every essence of his mind. It’s a while before he finally stops, and by then he could fit an entire hand inside of him, so he supposes it’s enough. He should stay calm, he’ll be fine.

Obadiah opens the door without knocking and Tony - having stood and cleaning everything away now - drops his hands from where they had been fingering at his necklace and turns to look at him. Hands on his bare shoulders turn him around before he can, however, and he looks down instead. Fighting back a spiteful remark and trying to stay still, obediently silent.

They stand like that for a while and Tony really needs to go or he’ll be late, but if he talks now, he’ll be -

"Aldrich’s hand is broken." Tony clenches his jaw. Not now. Please not now, not when I’m about to - "Did you do that to him?" Tony doesn’t answer but a knee pressing painfully into his thigh gives him the warning he needs and he nods in answer. Not trusting his voice. Obadiah doesn’t react at first, doesn’t say anything, and he lets go of Tony’s shoulders to take a step back and look around the room. Tony wants to cover himself with a blanket but there’s no point now. The entire village will be there for the beginning of the ceremony before leaving Tony with the un-bonded around the fire.

There’s no point in covering himself if all are going to see him naked anyway.

If Loki were here, he would mock Tony for quivering like this, would make a comment that would be both crude and comforting and would then grunt when Tony thanked him for his little bit of kindness - however small.

But Loki is not here. Loki is never here when Tony needs him.

Obadiah shoves him over the bed after a horribly long pause that has Tony nearly combusting from how hard he’s shaking from the wait, from the knowledge that he is about to be beaten. But he’s not.

Obadiah simply backhands him when he turns over, watches as he rolls to off of the bed from the blow and kicks at one of his legs when Tony tries to stand back up.

"If he hurts you beyond repair tonight, you will only have yourself to blame." He growls at him, leaning over him. Tony sits as he is, his legs curled and he arms raised to defend himself. Obadiah barely spares him a glance before leaving the room, "As you always do."

Tony doesn’t cry, he holds it back as much as he can and stands with the help of the wall beside him. Twenty-One years of this and he still feels pain. There’s a bruise forming on his thigh and he places a hand over it with a wince, leaning over the window’s ledge and looking out over the sky.

Somewhere, in that swamp, Loki is being tortured by phantom weapons. He knows it only stops when Tony is there and he wishes -

“ _Where is the Stark boy_? We’ve waited for longer than you told us to, _bring him here_.” He glances down, watching as one of the un-bonded, naked and huge, demands Tony’s Majester to go and find him. She nods and apologizes and assures him that Tony will be down and prepared for him. She’ll come here first, and he’ll be hit again, for being late and for being so -

The moon is in the sky now and the un-bonded from below crosses back toward the fire. Frustrated already, Tony can see, half hard and angry. He shuts his eyes, breathing in deep, trying to -

” _Anthony_!” His Majester knocks at the door downstairs. She’ll be inside in a few moments, will be dragging him from the room by his hair or by his neck and will be -

Wait.

Beneath his window, no one sits or stands there and no one passes now. He can, but should he? If he does go, there’s no turning back.

Just as he hears the door open, he climbs out of the window quickly, landing hard on the rocks outside and pulling his robe down with him just before he jumps.

Slipping it on quickly, he takes a lantern from one of the poles by his house and runs as fast as he can toward the swamp. Drums still beat in the distance, reminding him of his duty, but he ignores everything that tells him to stop and to go back, to let it all happen - to succumb to his fate that he’ll be broken before the night is ended.

But he doesn’t stop. He runs. He swims. He wades and he searches and then - when he finally finds him, he has to stop or he’s afraid that this will all be over and that Loki will not be real after all and his Majester will come to wake him and take him away and Aldrich will never let him go if they bond and -

"You should not be here."

Tony moves again, he doesn’t stop until he’s reached Loki completely. Not until he’s at least a hands width away from him.

"I should never be here, and yet I always come."

Loki smiles, “I _meant_ , little Anthony, that your mating ceremony is occurring without you if you are here. If I recall correctly, once the moon is high the pickings are good. And you, child, are very _ripe_.”

Tony’s expression shutters but he clenches his jaw, “I’ve promised myself to my God, already.” He says and Loki frowns, “And if I bond with him, then they will all sense that I have, and that’ll be that. I shall never have to participate again and I shall not be - not be _hurt_ tonight.”

Loki looks at him. Tony’s heart doesn’t seem to be beating anymore.

"And if your God does not wish to bond?"

Tony falters. “Please.”

"Don’t beg." Loki spits, though the warmth in his eyes says otherwise, "It’s unbecoming of you."

Tony wades closer. “If I bond with you - if I - if we mate together, now, then it’s done? Isn’t it?” Loki narrows his eyes at him, “Loki, I am giving myself to you. Our souls are to bind in the future, we both know that, so why can our bodies not be bound also?”

There’s a pause and, in the distance, the drums stop. They know he’s missing now. He can’t go back.

"A bond is formed when a connection is created between two bodies in their lust or passion. A trust. Un-bonded are formed when they lose a connection with another or never find it to begin with."

Tony slides forward, his robe tied at the front and the lantern bobbing in the water beside him when he lets it go. Loki eyes him as he comes closer, and if Tony had only just met the man, he would never have noticed the flicker of wariness in his green eyes.

"I need you." Tony murmurs to him, "It is only lust, only a night together."

"We’ve no connection." Fear grips Tony so suddenly he chokes.

"Liar!" He doesn’t mean to shout but panic rears inside him and he can’t keep it back no matter how hard he tries to. Loki’s face darkens and his wrist is grabbed at, used to tug him into his chest.

"We’ve _no_ connection.” Tony finds himself without a voice. Without a breath. “Now get out of my sight.” He’s thrust backward, shoved away, and it’s the first show of violence that Loki has ever given him and he wants to scream at him, to cry, to pray to him that he does not, he _can_ not, return to that fire now. Not _now_.

"Loki - " His God turns from him. Turns away. “Please.”

"I told you not to beg."

"I - " His foot slips in the water and his head plunges under for a moment. When he holds his breath underneath all he sees is the snake’s dead head looking at him, judging him. Knowing as well, that even his God does not want him. Anthony Stark: unwanted.

When he surfaces, he can’t breathe and all he can see are the burned images in his mind of Loki and of Aldrich holding him down, or his Majester pulling him away and taking him to Obadiah who will only beat him for his insolence and for his sinning.

"You - " He chokes, coughing, "You are my _purpose_ , Loki. What am I meant to - without you, what can I - ?”

He slips again and this time, he stays under. He keeps his head below the water, holds his breath, shuts his eyes, hopes that perhaps he can keep it that way long enough that -

Arms envelop around his waist and he’s pulled up, out of the water, and into Loki’s lap, held there while he chokes and sobs and coughs. He continues to sob, wrapping his arms around Loki’s neck and burying his face there, “I’m cursed then.” He moans, “I must be, just as they have all said I am - I’m cursed. I have always been cursed. I was born into the sadness of our village, into the years of famine, and I have never been seen as one of them in their eyes. I’ve no one who has ever wanted to love or protect me - to want me - I’m _cursed_!”

Loki holds him, his fingers digging into Tony’s back, “You know nothing of curses, Anthony. Nothing of pain. You are simply lacking in kindness, and for that, I cannot help you.”

They sit like that for what seems like an age. Tony’s sobs eventually die down and, though he always feels like nothing more than a child when here with Loki, he finds himself hating the show of weakness and the desire to be cared for. Shunned and abused, he has always found himself running away and now. Now he has a God to hold him but his God … his God does not even care enough to help him. What does he do now?

"I need you." He whispers, "We’ve a connection, I know we do, I know it. … please, Loki. Please."

Loki’s hands don’t move.

"Please. I can’t go back there. I need you. You’re my God, you _swore_ you needed me, if only to break your curse, but you _must_ care. At least a little - “

"Your robe." Loki interrupts him softly, looking down at him, "… Take it off."

Tony’s eyes are dark when he moves from Loki’s neck to look into the green of his, and when the words finally process, he slides backward until he’s off of Loki’s thighs and into the water again. Chains clink when he hits them and he stares at him.

"Do you want me to change my mind?" And suddenly Tony can’t breathe. But he wants this. He’s asked for it. Loki’s dangerous, he knows, and yet - the trust he has for him is more than he has for his own village.

Tony’s fingers find the sash around the robe and he unties it easily, pulling it down over his shoulders and letting the material float away to snag on a broken tree nearby. Loki watches him, his eyes shadowed in the night and Tony has never been here before, when the moon is in the sky, has never seen the swamp or Loki when it’s been dark.

He looks different now. He looks like the God he claims to be.

"Are you a God?" Tony asks him, whispering and reaching a hand out to touch him. Loki takes that hand, moves it for him and rests it on one of his shoulders. "Or did you lie to me?"

Loki pulls him and he’s in his lap again. Tony takes his other hand and plants it on Loki’s shoulder, one on either side and he leans up just enough, until he has to look down to meet Loki’s eyes.

"Your King has two sons, Anthony," Loki murmurs, his voice vibrating around Tony’s body. He’s so close, so close, he’s never been so close. Voices shout in the distance now, but no one will dare come into the swamp. They’re safe here. Alone. "One, he punishes, the other he praises." Odin. Odin’s _son_. Tony wants to ask more, wants to question him like he always does, but the light from the moon then shines over them both as it rises in the sky and Loki’s hands find his waist.

"Do you truly think we’ve no connection?" He then asks, his voice so quiet that if Loki were an ordinary man, he would never have heard him at all, "Or am I really nothing more than a soul you need?"

Loki’s hands dip lower over his body and he doesn’t answer, not at first, but when Tony slides a hand down from his shoulder to find what he knows is under the water - to touch it, to feel it against his hand - he tightens his grip and nods, once. “If we had nothing, I would have killed you already.”

Tony’s heart pounds and he wraps his hand around it tighter, testing and feeling, ignoring whatever distaste he knows he should be experiencing and letting himself be pulled closer and nearer. Loki’s breath is warm against him, his skin rough against Tony’s.

And when he pushes inside, Tony shakes once, and moves down himself, holding onto Loki’s shoulders once again and letting his God move them into a pace he prefers. He kisses him then, himself, for the first time, and Loki turns away when he’s done, “Kissing isn’t necessary for a bond, we only need - ” Tony kisses him again, opens his mouth like he’s seen many married men and women do before, and Loki presses inside all the more, pushing a tongue past Tony’s teeth and swallowing a moan.

"Oh, it’s been a while." Loki groans against his lips, thrusting into him and the sensation is so strange compared to the last time that Tony has done this, "But not, I think, for you."

Tony shakes his head, a smile coming to his lips. He loves it when Loki guesses things about him. It makes him feel like he’s something worth learning, worth studying, “No.” He gasps, his eyes flashing when Loki’s hands grip his thighs and move him down deeper, “I - once. A few women and men in the forest. We weren’t meant to but - we didn’t want the mating ceremony to be the first time. We wanted privacy.”

Loki’s voice is low again, and a smirk curls over his lips, “That’s against the _rules_.” He says slowly, amused, and Tony’s breathing is so quick now, he’s certain Loki can feel his pulse beating inside him.

"Have you ever known me to be a rule-follower?"

Loki hitches him higher, turning until Tony can lean against the rock, until Loki can place his hands either side of his ribs and thrust harder. “Have you assumed that I have only wished for your company just to see your pretty face, all this time?” Tony slides back with every thrust, his pupils blown and his lips apart, “You, at least, had to be just a little _wild_ for me to even look at you.”

Tony curls a hand in his hair - it’s wet, Loki must have fallen asleep and accidentally slipped under the water before - and he hates knowing about this. He wishes that he’s the right age now, wishes that it’s the right time for their souls to be bound, if only to release his God from his constant cycle of punishment.

He kisses him again - as though his passion can take Loki’s pain away - moaning when Loki shifts inside of him, and when his presses his thighs together to slide backward, Loki groans into his mouth and he freezes; a warmth like nothing he’s ever felt filling his stomach and now _there’s_ the pleasure that he’s heard of.

"Again. Kissing is not - necessary." Loki grunts.

"I don’t care, Loki, why would I." Tony moans, sliding his tongue inside his God’s mouth. Loki continues to thrust into that one little area and Tony keens now, digging his nails into the man’s shoulders and kicking the chains out of the way when they catch around his ankles.

"Those villagers you spoke of before," Loki sounds hoarse, he’s panting, and Tony cries out beneath him when he thrusts harder, "Those you had and who had you." He nods, showing him, telling him that he’s listening. "You will forget them. You will know me, only me. There is and never will be anyone else, do you understand?"

Tony nods again, pressing his lips together and swallowing his own cries with effort, “I saw you - in the fire.” He gasps, telling him though he knows it should remain a secret, “I saw your face.” Loki buries that face in Tony’s neck, lowering his arms until his elbows touch the rock as well, while he continues to roll his hips up into him. “You - it told me that it’s you. Only you. You are my purpose in life, Loki. It is only you. I have my own dreams, my own wants for life - I want to build more, to create things, but it’s you that I’ll return to. Always. It’s you, just you.”

Loki tightens his arms around him and presses inside deeper, “Do you know the prayer of souls?” He asks then, suddenly - and in the light of the moon, he truly does look like something so close to a God, so far from human.

Tony nods, understanding the order, and he slides his hands over Loki’s skin; reciting as best he can while his God thrusts into him from above, “Må - ” He falters, afraid he’ll pronounce everything wrong but Loki nods at him, wordlessly asking him to continue, “Våra själar bada alltid i ett ljus av förståelse - Må vår kärlek - _ah!_ \- kärlek lyfter oss högt. Må vår lust att hålla oss nära!” Loki begins to quicken and the pleasure that had only been an inkling before, now surrounds and burns Tony’s insides. He doesn’t want it to stop. Not ever. “Våra själar - _Oh_ \- vår kärlek. Må vi känner det i våra sinnen och inte våra kroppar - _Loki! Må vi höra det i våra hjärtan! Please_ \- !”

"Enough," Loki orders him, pressing against Tony, sharing his desire and taking him in hand, "Enough, enough. One day," Tony moans beneath him, tightening his thighs together again just to hear Loki groan like had before. "You will learn of prayers for me. You will learn _my_ words, my rites. The God of Mischief is only prayed to by so few and you, Anthony, you will _learn_. You will pray to me, not your other Gods. Not what your villagers worship. You will learn differently, you will worship to me. You will come here, to me, only me, and you will pray while I take you.”

Tony’s eyes are wide, his lips already apart for Loki to curl his tongue inside and he feels weak from it all, so hot and cold from desire and lust and relief that it is his God and not any of the un-bonded. That it is someone he trusts, though he knows that he shouldn’t, and not another that he knows only hates him more than desires him.

"Yes." He breathes, "T - teach me to." Loki leans back, his hands tugging Tony down with his hips and, in the village, the drums sound again. The un-bonded must be finding others to share their lust with now, ones that they cannot bond with but can take their frustrations out on. " _Teach_ me, Loki. I’ve never known prayers for you, my God, but I want - _Ah_!”

"You asked me for this," Loki reminds him, as though warning him of something but all Tony can think is more, please, more. “You asked to bind more than our souls. You asked to bind with another your village does not know.”

"I’ll be careful." Tony promises him, "I have never let them know of you for years. I’ll be careful. I can. I can be careful." Loki chuckles, jerking Tony’s head backward now with every thrust.

"I know you can, Anthony, I know. And when I fill you - so close now that I will soon - it will fill you more than you know. Your God will have claimed you. Do you understand what that means?" Tony doesn’t, not really, but he knows that a bond of lust can only be broken by the marriage to another or by the death of your bonded. Loki’s claim on him will be known, others will sense it, he’ll not be touched without permission now for fear of inciting his bonded’s rage - though Tony’s own rage over wandering hands has usually been enough to keep others back - and despite not knowing who it is he’ll be bonded to, he will be left from mating ceremonies. He will never have to be a part of it. Ever.

"Thank you, Loki." He breathes, knowing he has to say it again. Loki has saved him, has helped him, and no word of thanks will ever show how grateful he is to him for this. Loki thrusts hard enough hat stars dance in his eyes, " _Thank you_ -!”

Loki releases himself with a shout, _inside_ Tony’s body, just after three more short thrusts and Tony’s breath hitches when he feels it fill him, warm and sticky and so strange compared to how he remembers it being, before with those men years ago. Then, they had not released each other inside bodies and had, instead, inside their mouths to hide anyone from discovering what they had done. But here, with Loki, he knows that it’s a claim, knows that his body belongs to his God now and that Loki is his also, but it is a proof as well. A proof of what they have both shared together.

If Tony were a woman, he would likely be fertile for the mating ceremony and after this bond, a baby would have found it’s way inside of him. As it is, all he feels is a warmth curling through his toes until it spreads up, all the way up around his body. Loki’s fingers find him and Tony’s shares a climax that he is familiar enough with already, having divulged in self-pleasure like many others, but with it being Loki’s hands on him, Loki’s hands giving him release, he has to bite his lip to stop from screaming.

Loki slips out of him and Tony twitches, turning his face to one side and letting himself be lifted up higher onto the rock. His robe is grabbed, it’s hem soaked from the water though the rest is dry from having hung from the tree, and Loki drapes it over his bare skin as he lies there. He turns onto his side, facing his God and watching as he rests his own head on his arms, looking at Tony.

A finger curls in a short lock of his hair and brushes it from his forehead. “I have changed the spell I had over you.” Tony blinks at him slowly, “It will continue tomorrow also. In case you are beaten for running from the ceremony.”

It’s more than he could have asked for and Tony’s eyes tighten and he smiles at him. “Why do you pretend to be so evil, when you are kinder than you believe?”

Loki scoffs, leaning closer and licking over Tony’s bottom lip, “Only to you, am I kind Anthony. If you ever see me with any others, you’ll know what a monster I can be.” Tony hums, not believing it, but choosing not to argue.

The moon still shines over them and Loki’s fingers find the flower tucked inside his necklace, “Hm.” Is all he says for a while, before, “Red coral. The flower of virginity.” Tony blinks at him.

"Is it?"

Loki’s lips twist into a smile, “How very ironic.” Tony finds himself laughing at that, putting a hand over his mouth to cover the sound and Loki’s smile widens as he does, muffling it easily by placing his lips over Tony’s. “My virgin.”

"I’m not." Tony protests, for even if he had been, after this he most definitely cannot be.

"To me, you are. Innocent." Tony gives him a look. "Perhaps not to your village, but to me. You always will be. The mortal … and the monster." The mood had changed, Tony realizes, and he doesn’t interrupt. Not even when Loki sighs and lowers his head to sleep, "Perhaps one day they will write a legend for you as well." He chuckles to himself, "The mortal and the Monster. Not a tale, I think, for children." And then Tony’s smiling again and he settles over the rock. It’s warmer where he lies, his body having heated it while he and Loki had lain together, and it’s that warmth - both of the rock and inside him - that eventually allows him to drift to sleep.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he dreads. When they discover that he had run to bond with another, to wish for privacy he’ll tell them, they’ll stop and understand but before that - when only their fists and insults will come into play, they’ll not stop to listen to him. Loki’s spell may help him, he hopes, but right now, tonight, he sleeps. Sleeps with his God for the first time. Content.

Tomorrow will wait.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry there's not much world building. This is just something that happened and I've not thought much about it :L
> 
> Sorry for any typos!


End file.
